As you bend down to put on the red monstrosities Mark had picked - strappy red platform shoes that must add six or more inches to Sue's five foot four body - you nearly recoil, scenting clearly the musk of your own sex. Your recent masturbation efforts seem all too obvious to your pert little nose; you just hope Mark doesn't notice or think you've been having sex with someone else.
"Something wrong?" he asks as he does up his seatbelt.
You gulp and shake your head. "I hadn't noticed how tall the shoes were," you say as an excuse, and realize you feel sopping wet down there, never having had a chance to clean up all the drool that had kept you soaked down there. Anyone else would think you were horny as hell.
He shrugs, putting the keys in the ignition. "I wanted you closer to my height," he says, referring to his six foot frame.
"So, uh, where's the party?"you ask, wiggling your feet into the shoes. You've no idea how you'll be able to wear these things, but hopefully Sue's body will remember how. That or you'll be going to the hospital with broken ankles.
You straighten up just as Mark pulls the car onto the road with a squealing of tires, holding your breath for a moment. After one last glance down at your heels, noticing as you do that your nipples are tenting out the bosom of your dress, you turn back to Mark.
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